


Spontaneous Composition

by rosamynal



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bard Boys, Dick Chicken, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosamynal/pseuds/rosamynal
Summary: Two opposites attract.
Relationships: Sanson/Guydelot Thildonnet
Comments: 19
Kudos: 71





	Spontaneous Composition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deletable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deletable/gifts).



The dark-haired Midlander set aside his quill with a sigh. Despite having written them down, his thoughts still whirled in his mind; his emotions only urged them to spin faster still. Tired blue eyes skimmed the drying ink in the soft light of his room. He could have turned in the moment he arrived, but Sanson wanted to get everything down before submitting to sleep. 

It had been a normal day filled with routine tasks until that evening. On his way back into New Gridania, Guydelot stopped the Midlander just outside the White Wolf Gate. The Elezen informed him there was something they needed to investigate in Sorrel Haven, however it could wait until morning. There had been something in the other man’s blue eyes that seemed to hint at an unspoken intent, but Guydelot strolled through the gate before Sanson could press him.

That  _ look _ had been the spark to Sanson’s tinder. It set fire to his mind and dragged forward the emotions he had tried to deny ever since their battle in the Sea of Clouds. With each passing day, it proved more and more difficult for the Midlander to ignore what he had realized that day. Since then, his waking hours were spent stamping down those thoughts and convincing himself he was being delusional. His  _ dreams _ however…

A particularly vivid one surfaced in his memories. Heat concentrated in his groin almost fully hardening him. Thoughts of Guydelot’s teasing touch tracing the contours of his bare torso invaded his mind. The playful twist of the Elezen’s lips as they parted only to tease him.

_ “Sanson the Stiff _ . _ I wonder how stiff you can get. _ ”

The phantom words stirred up the longing that grew with his erection. Fingers trembling with unfulfilled want undid the laces to his trousers. Part of him wanted to ignore his aching cock in the hopes that it would go away on its own; the rest of him was more reasonable.

“Best to take care of it,” he panted, groaning as he took himself in hand. “It’s  _ nn- _ not like he’ll ever look at me in  _ that _ way. We are com- _ mmm _ -rades in arms. Nothing more.”

The man bit his lip to stifle the elicited moan when he squeezed the base of his cock and began to stroke. 

The following morning, Sanson was up bright and early. Once breakfast had been eaten and cleaned up, the Midlander made for Guydelot’s room only to discover the Elezen had already left. He continued to the White Wolf Gate, but did not find the other man there; the guards informed him that no one had passed through all morning. He resigned himself to wait with a sigh and found a place to sit with his journal and a pencil. 

Half a bell passed with no sign of the Elezen. Another sigh parted Sanson's lips as he peered down the path and through the gate. The Midlander made his decision and tucked away his journal and pencil. Confident that he would discover whatever Guydelot felt had to be investigated, he walked through the gate into the Shroud.

Sanson continued to Dunstan’s Spire, hoping the tower would give him a better vantage point. As he crossed the platform bridging the crater, however, he realized the Wood Wailer typically posted at the top of the stairs was missing. The Midlander raised a dark eyebrow and made a note to report the man to his superiors. Before Sanson could lean over the railing to see if at least the sentries down below were on duty, a teasing voice called out to him from above.

“Ah, it took you long enough to get here. I thought you would have come looking for me directly, but I should have known better than to think you would show any initiative, Sanson the Stiff.”

The Midlander glanced up to find Guydelot peering down from the top of the Spire. The Elezen waved down with a smirk that simultaneously vexed Sanson and knotted his throat. Guydelot leaned against the railing of the observation platform, propped his head up with one hand and crooked a finger on the other.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get up here. There’s something you need to see.”

The Elezen vanished from view. Sanson stared at the empty space for a moment, questioning whether he wanted to climb up or insist Guydelot simply take him to whichever location needed to be inspected. After a few more seconds, he loosed a defeated sigh and entered the tower.

He exited onto the observation platform to find Guydelot leaning against a support column with his arms crossed.

"How do you manage to get anything done with so much deliberation?" He asked with a teasing smile. "You should embrace spontaneity more."

Sanson scowled at the remark and insisted under his breath that he could be spontaneous. He crossed the platform to look out over the Shroud.

"So what did you want me to see?"

"This."

A hand landed on his shoulder; it spun him around to face Guydelot. The Elezen's hand joined the other at the Midlander's waist, holding him in place. Guydelot pressed a kiss to Sanson's lips before the latter could react. The latter's eyes widened at the sensation of their lips touching--and the feeling of the stiff object pressing into him. One of the other man's lithe hands trailed up his back to cup his neck. The other lowered to grope one of his ass cheeks and push him into Guydelot’s erection. Sanson’s jaw reflexively lowered to invite the other man in, but it seemed the action was misinterpreted.

As they parted, he stared at the Elezen, whose lips slowly fell into a pout. Guydelot hummed.

"Perhaps I was reading too much into it," he murmured.

Sanson's hands flew out of their own accord. They grasped the front of the other man's shirt and pulled him in. Their lips crashed together as he reached up, twisting his fingers into the Elezen’s dark locks. A pleased groan slipped into his mouth along with Guydelot’s tongue as it eagerly tasted him. Long, dexterous fingers pulled Sanson’s hair free before cupping his face. 

The instinctive kiss drew to a slow end. Fire erupted across the Midlander’s face with the realization of what he had done. He tried to jerk backwards, but the Elezen held him firmly. A cat-like smile tugged at Guydelot’s face and creased his light blue eyes.

“So I  _ was _ right,” he whispered. 

“N-no! No. I-I-I’m  _ sorry _ !” Sanson stammered. “I-I don’t know what came over me!”

“I think I would call it ‘spontaneity’,” the other man teased. 

Guydelot's fingers traced the curve of Sanson's jaw and continued behind his rounded ears into his loose hair. Shivers and goosebumps followed their path and trailed down the shorter man's spine. The Midlander nearly melted into the Elezen's touch, but steadied himself by grabbing the other's shirt.

Light blue eyes darted down at his touch. A smirk twisted Guydelot's lips as the tips of his fingers began to gently massage Sanson's scalp. His eyelids drooped while his grip tightened on the Elezen's shirt. The Midlander reflexively rubbed his hardening erection into the other man.

An urge seized him before he could fully comprehend it. He pulled the taller man down by the collar for a third kiss. His lips muffled Guydelot's surprised cry--along with the ensuing chuckle. 

The Elezen took a step back, pulling the Midlander with him. Sanson followed eagerly--only to topple onto Guydelot when the other man dropped into a chair he hadn't noticed before. A knee slipped between his legs which allowed him to sit on Guydelot's thigh. The motion tugged at the straining fabric of his pants and in turn rubbed against his erection and balls. He braced himself against the other man's shoulders before digging his feet into the wooden platform for purchase. With a push, he began rocking on top of the Elezen’s leg, searching for the friction of fabric against his cock. He bit back a moan as his head tilted back and his eyes slipped shut.

A touch to his hips brought Sanson back to reality. The Midlander froze and his eyes snapped open with the realization of what he was doing. Apologies tumbled from his lips as his face burned and he tried to climb off Guydelot’s leg. The other man grabbed his pants waist. Light blue eyes traveled down his form and stopped at his pronounced erection while the man’s teasing smirk widened into a grin.

“How obvious do I have to make this?” Guydelot asked, placing his hand on Sanson through the fabric. He rolled his palm over the tip. The Midlander tightened his grip on the Elezen’s shoulders and moaned. “I don’t  _ want _ you to stop, Sanson the  _ Stiff _ .”

The nickname sent a pleasurable shudder through him, reminding Sanson of his fantasy from the night before. He bucked into Guydelot’s hand and rolled his hips back so the hand trailed down to his base. His fingertips dug into the Elezen’s skin through his clothes as he fixed him with an annoyed glare.

“Then stop preaching about spontaneity and  _ do _ something.”

A sound between a hum and a moan vibrated in Guydelot’s throat at the challenge. With a show of patience Sanson had not thought possible from the man, Guydelot slipped a small bottle from his pocket and slicked his hands with its contents. He then licked his lips and slipped his fingers between the hem of Sanson’s pants and his flushed skin. Using both hands, the Elezen slowly edged the waist lower and lower; he only stopped when he peeled the other man’s erection free of the quickly dampening fabric. Sanson hissed when his burning erection was bared to the cool, morning air. The pressure of the bunched fabric resting just below the base of his cock made him reflexively buck his hips again with a moan.

A finger traced a line from the head to the fabric at the base of cock, pulling another strangled sound from his throat. The Elezen’s long fingers wrapped around his erection. Sanson’s breath hitched at the firm grip while Guydelot sighed. Using his free hand, the other man unlaced his own pants and pulled himself out. Sanson stared at Guydelot’s bared erection, his mind unable to process that what was happening wasn’t just another fantasy.

Just as the Elezen closed his fingers around himself, Sanson darted in to grasp him. Guydelot gave in and leaned back in the seat with a low groan as he reflexively tightened his hold, drawing a similar sound from the Midlander. A lazy smile curled the corners of the other man’s lips. His half-lidded icy blue eyes focused on Sanson.

“Careful. I may have to rename you Sanson the Spontaneous,” he teased.

“If you don’t like it I can stop,” Sanson offered, but dreaded the response.

Guydelot chuckled and rubbed his thumb against the top of the Midlander’s cock before simultaneously squeezing and tugging all the way to his head. Sanson moaned and nearly released his hold on the Elezen.

“If you keep threatening to stop, you’ll never see what else I can do with my mouth.”

Sanson realized there was an idea in that statement. A smile slowly drew across his face as he leaned in and kissed Guydelot on the lips while repeating the same motion on his erection.The Elezen moaned into his mouth. His free hand flew up to hold the dark-haired Midlander in place as his other hand began dexterously stroking the girthier man. He bucked into the other’s grip before gradually speeding up his ministrations. 

A squeeze here, a rub there against the underside or the head--all combined with him discovering the sweet taste that lingered in Guydelot’s mouth. He didn’t even notice when the Elezen had stopped stroking him and instead gripped his hips with both hands. The other man broke the kiss to roll his head back, seemingly lost in the feeling of Sanson touching him and muttering his name over and over. Guydelot’s hold on his hips tightened as he suddenly ejaculated into Sanson’s hand with a grunt. 

A guttural moan tore out of Sanson’s throat when he realized what he had done. His sticky hand returned to his aching erection to finish himself off with the oil there. Pleasure seized him as he recalled the other’s face and how  _ he _ had been the one to bring him to  _ completion _ . The Midlander’s ejaculate covered the Elezen’s clothed torso. Both of their eyes slowly lowered to it as the thick fluid trailed down the front of Guydelot’s pale green coat; a renewed blush flared up on Sanson’s face.

“I… I’m…” he stammered, unsure of how to apologize. 

Guydelot drew a line through it with his finger, scooping some up to bring it to his mouth. Sanson’s embarrassment deepened and he nearly fell off his perch despite the curved smirk on the Elezen’s lips.

“A shame you did that,” he said in a soft tone. “I wanted to show you what I could do with my tongue. Ah well, there’s always next time, no?”

“N- _ next _ time?!”

“Of course! Did you really think this was going to be a one-time fling?”

He bit back a moan as the thought alone made his softening dick twitch.  _ Again _ ? They would have  _ another  _ chance to explore each other’s bodies--to see what made the other dissolve into pleasure the fastest. His haze-filled mind tried to remember if there was anything important to do that day, or if he could freely suggest returning to somewhere more private.

Guydelot’s chuckle pulled him from his thoughts. A Wood Wailer’s voice snapped him completely out of it and back into reality. He was still straddling the cum-covered Elezen’s knee with his pants pulled down to his cheeks and both of their dicks in the air. The Midlander panicked while his new lover responded.

“Don’t worry about the shift change; we’ll be down in a moment. No one is going to know we relieved you of your post.”

The Elezen waited a moment before gently tucking Sanson’s cock away and pulling his pants back up to his waist. He slid off the other man’s knee while Guydelot adjusted his own clothes and removed his coat. Once the stained part had been hidden, the Elezen turned to Sanson with a smirk.

“I’m sure you have work to do and I have a coat to clean. Shall we meet somewhere more private after lunch?”

“Yes!” Sanson responded before he could stop himself.

Guydelot burst into laughter and pulled the shorter man in for a kiss.

“Good,” he whispered. “Your room?”

Sanson nodded before following the other man down the stairs and out of the Spire. 


End file.
